


Welcome Home

by bothromeoandjuliet



Series: Home To The Breaking Hearts [2]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Betty and Archie are hearing wedding bells, F/M, Jughead and Veronica love one another, One Shot Sequel, its less angsty then the last one I promise, the line between hate and love is thin but we walk it side by side, this is set nine years after YGTBMHAIGTLY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bothromeoandjuliet/pseuds/bothromeoandjuliet
Summary: He hates her, for what she does to him now and what she'd done to him then. Jughead can't lie and say that the heartbreak she'd given him nine years ago hadn't been useful; but why had Betty and Archie insisted on having their wedding in Riverdale?Sequel to 'You're Going To Break My Heart And I'm Going To Let You.'





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Ask and you shall receive! A lot of you guys wanted to see a happy ending for Jughead and Veronica after the heartbreak that I'd given them in YGTBMHAIGTLY and I just knew that that story couldn't end like that so this ended up being created! That being said, you don't have to read the previous story to read this one, but if you don't you will be missing some of the context and references from it. I'm so excited about the fact that I almost reached the ten thousand word mark with this one and I REALLY hope that you guys enjoy this one as much as you enjoyed it predecessor.

It's pitch black outside, moonlight dances through the trees, late night blinks over into early morning and Jughead Jones drives back over Riverdale’s town line for the first time in five years.

The soft-core rock that he’d been listening to ends, giving way to a long winded radio announcer who doesn’t seem to have any plans to turn things back to the music, so Jughead scowls and switches it off; veering sharply to the left as he does so.

The road is sickeningly familiar, and if it wasn’t for the thought of his dad’s disappointed face Jughead would be turning around to find the nearest hotel. But he had already promised to stay at the trailer, and he never broke a promise.

Headlights glow before him, revealing Sunnyside’s entrance sign and bouncing off semi-dried mud. No lights are on when he pulls up and parks his car, (okay, so it's not _his_ car, but he’s borrowing it) and Jughead feels a sense of relief. Not that he wasn’t excited to see his dad, he was; but it was the sort of excitement that Jughead would rather experience over a mug of coffee in the morning when he’s worked all of the uncomfortable feelings about being back in Riverdale out of his system.

Jughead had sworn that he wouldn’t ever come back to Riverdale the day that he had graduated college, but leave it to his two oldest friends, Riverdale’s very own ‘High-School-Sweethearts’ to throw a wrench in his plans. Them and their stupid traditions; why couldn’t they have been like every other trendy couple and had a destination wedding? And why was Archie insisting that Jughead be the best man when it was clear that Reggie Mantle was a much closer friend to him these days?

The door is unlocked, and the hinges are new, judging by how little noise they make when he pushes the door open with his shoulder; arms too filled with his suitcase and a garment bag that's protecting his suit, specially ordered for the big day, to be of any use.

Jughead forgoes turning on any lights, instead making the decision to bang his various limbs on anything he possible can, and by the time he makes it to his room more then one expletive has burst forth. Hanging the garment bag over his closet door and dropping the suitcase is the extent of Jugheads unpacking and the next moment he’s collapsed on his old bed, eyes drifting shut. He has just enough residual energy to sniff cautiously, and feels the tension roll from his shoulders after he ascertains that the sheets are new, with no hint of anything even vaguely female hanging about them.

After all, there’s a reason Jughead had sworn to never come back.

* * *

 

Sunlight burns at his eyelids, (he really should get his dad to buy a curtain of some sort or at least move the bed,) and Jughead can’t tell what's more disconcerting, the sensation that he’s about to be late for school or the fact that his dad is knocking on his open doorwith two mugs of coffee in his hand.

He stirs, turning his face away from the glaring sun and seeing his movement his dad enters.

“Well, well, well, looks like our Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken!”

“Morning Dad.”

“I should say it was morning, it's eight-thirty and your phones been going off since six.”

Jughead bolts upright, grabbing his phone from the floor where it had evidently fallen. Multiple notifications light up the screen, most from the happy couple, but one from his editor, who no doubt has more news about the publishing companies reaction to the newest manuscript that he had sent them.

“Crap.” Jughead mutters “Archie wants me to meet him at Pops in ten minutes.”

“You’re gonna need to take back roads then, better take your bike.” his dad advises.

“Yeah, yeah I know.” Jughead responds, throwing his covers off his legs and leaping to his feet.

It's something that Jughead’s done since he was a kid, but normally he didn’t have anyone standing right next to him with two full cups of coffee in their hands.

The collision was invertible; both mugs flew through the air and landed on Jughead’s bed, coffee spreading in every direction.

“Crap!” Jughead exclaimed, hesitating over the mess.

“Just go meet Archie, Jug. I’ve got this covered.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later ‘kay?”

Jughead swung out the door, dragging his suitcase with him into the bathroom. He changed as fast as he could and slammed his beanie over his head in favor of spending time in the shower. His motorcycle’s keys hung in the same spot as they had before and soon enough Jughead was speeding down the highway, helmet jammed over his head and heart beating unreasonably fast.

He makes it to Pops right on time. Betty and Archie are sitting in their old booth and greet him with almost pathetic joy shining through their faces. It wasn’t the reaction that Jughead had been expecting honestly, and he feels guilt creeping up his spine as he thinks of all the different times that he could have contacted them but hadn’t.

“It is so good to see you Juggie!” Betty exclaims again after they receive their orders from a younger girl that Jughead doesn’t recognize.

“You have no idea how often Archie and I miss you; you really should come back more often!”

“Yeah…well-“ the bell above the door rings and Jughead instinctively ducks his head at the sight of darkish hair.

Because even though Jughead doesn’t even know if she ever came back, Pops has not changed nearly enough for Jughead to feel like there is no chance of her walking through the door. It isn’t her and so Jughead straightens awkwardly, thanking his lucky stars that Archie and Betty are just as oblivious as ever.

“I’ve thought about coming back to visit. Just over the summer, you know? Try and get some writing in, but you know how it gets.”

It's a lie, one of the least convince ones that he’s ever told, but they just nod sympathetically, buying it hook, line, and sinker.

“We get it man.” Archie says, transferring half of Betty’s pancakes over to his plate. “That's why we’re both so thankful that you were able to be here for the wedding.”

“It's true Jughead, the wedding party wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Right, the wedding party. Jughead hadn’t honestly given much thought as to who else Betty and Archie would have invited to be witnesses.

“And the members of this wedding party would be…?”

Betty, whose just taken a bite the size of a small country, widens her eyes and waves her hand at Archie to tell Jughead what he wants to know.

“Oh man, I keep forgetting that not everyones had their head stuck up in wedding planning land.” Archie laughs “We wanted a small ceremony, with just family and friends so we have three people each. You’re my best man, obviously, and then Reggie, and then Betty’s nephew Dagwood, who's also a ring bearer, and Polly is going to be matron of honor, with Juniper as third bridesmaid and flower girl. We’re going for multiple jobs for the kids cause we don’t really know that many.”

Archie pauses, turning to rub his fiancé’s back to help her recover from her near-silent coughing fit. Jughead chews methodically, doing the math in his head, squishing his face in confusion.

“Wait, you never said who the second brides maid was.”

Betty’s face brightens, despite its unnatural color and begins to speak when the bell above the door rings again.

“Oh, that must be her now!”

Both the red head and the blonde swing in the direction of the door and eyes following theirs, Jughead sees a face that he hadn’t ever expected to see in person again.

The brown eyes meet his, widening slightly, and her step almost falters.

Jughead sees Betty turn towards him in his peripheral vision, hears her voice, faint in his ears.

“Jughead, you remember Veronica Lodge don’t you?”

Remember her? How could Jughead not remember her; it wasn’t like he’d been brewing in a Veronica induced haze for the past nine years, or that he’d written four books entirely about her and the things she had put him through.

 _‘You can’t remember what you never forgot.’_ Jughead thinks to himself bitterly.

But Betty doesn’t know any of the things that had happened between him and Veronica and neither does Archie. The day of graduation she had been driven away too fast for them to recognize who it was and Jughead hadn’t ever told them afterwards what had happened, preferring to sit in his own misery alone then attempt to explain the situation.

So instead of screaming at Betty or escaping out the window, Jughead just gives a non-committal shrug.

“Ronnie, you remember Jughead right?”

Fingers tighten around her purse strap and she presses her lips together, but gently, gently.

“Of course. How could I forget the boy who once tried to convince me that the name Jughead was traditional in his family.”

Her words have a double meaning and Jughead knows that she knows it. Because to Archie and Betty it might just seem like Veronica is referencing the first time that she and Jughead had met and he had told her that his name was ‘Jughead Jones, the third,’ but Jughead knows that she’s also talking about the late night that they had spent in his room, both overtired but refusing to sleep, when Jughead had tried to convince her that other members of his family had been called Jughead before him.

She’s in his airspace, burgundy fingertips flashing as she offers her hand to him; another reference to when they had first met. Jughead had ignored her then, but he couldn’t ignore her now; not with Betty and Archie staring at him expectantly and with the almost carnal urge to feel her hand inside his.

Skin brushes skin, the calluses on his hands catching against the silky smooth skin of hers. Nerve endings exploding up his arm; eyes lifting unconsciously to hers, two pairs of pupils doubling in size, and an undeniable parting of scarlet lips.

It's the briefest of touches, ending as soon as it begins, and since Archie and Betty are making no move to shift over for Veronica,  Jughead does, eyes riveted back on the plate of food that he no longer feels like eating. She sits next to him, the edge of her skirt landing over his knee for a full four seconds before she notices and tucks it underneath her thigh. She’s careful, painfully careful not to touch him and Jughead wedges himself as far into the corner of the booth as he can.

Veronica’s presence shifts the conversation from the wedding to different channels, because apparently Veronica, in some strange twist of fate, had returned to Riverdale after college and therefore had been knee-deep in the wedding details since the beginning.

So instead they fall down the, ‘do you remember that?’ conversation hole leaving Jughead to his silence and rapidly cooling cup of coffee; his thoughts fixed where he refused to let his eyes go.

Jughead couldn’t fathom the thought of Veronica retuning to Riverdale. As soon as college had ended everyone from their class had scattered to the four winds, never to be heard from again. He had gone to New York, Toni had ended up in California, even Betty and Archie had relocated to Greendale to expand Andrews Construction; and yet there she sat, head tilted in feigned interest, listening to Betty drone on about a piece she was working on for the Greendale Registerer, looking like she belonged anywhere but where she was.

“Well, as thrilling as your story is Betty, unfortunately it will have to be discontinued for the moment. Polly requested that I handle tonights rehearsal dinner and joint bachelor party and I simply can’t let anything go wrong for my favorite couple.” Veronica announced, sliding out of the booth, a thin smile stretched across her face.

“Oh, are you sure you can’t just delegate?” Betty pouts.

“Positive. I promised Polly that you and Archikins would receive nothing but the best and I never break a promise. Besides, what sort of friend would I be if I passed work off to people who had no personal stake in it being perfect!”

“I pity the wedding planner whose hired by you for your wedding V.” Betty laughs, swinging Archie’s arm around her shoulders. Jughead's gaze darts to where Veronica’s left hand sways by her side, breathing a sigh of what he supposes would be categorized as relief, after he ascertains that her ring finger is bare.

Not that Jughead cares if Veronica is engaged; he had placed his feelings about Veronica firmly in the ‘hate category’ a long time ago, it was just…lingering nostalgia for his youth. Yeah, that's what it was.

“I don’t have a wedding planner Betty, and if I have any say in it I never will. I swore off having any other name but Lodge a long time ago.” she pauses, and unless Jughead is seeing things, her smile falters a fraction. “Anyway, I’m off; and I’ll see you all tonight, unless something goes horrible wrong.”

She swivels on her heel, and walks away, Archie and Betty’s goodbyes flouting after her, and just like that Jughead can breath again. Betty excuses herself to pay the bill, and then head home to play referee between her mom and Polly who evidently get along just as well as they ever had.

The door swings shut behind her with a thud and Archie turns back to face Jughead, brow furrowed and expression worried.

“Are you gonna’ be okay with this, man?”

Heart stilling, fists clenching; how had Archie found out?

“Okay with what?”

His voice squeaks, and suddenly the almost invisible crack in his coffee mug’s handle is the most interesting thing in the world.

“With being around Veronica. I know that you and her weren’t really…I know that you didn’t really like her that much when we were in high-school.”

Liked her? No. Loved her; been besotted by her; had his heart broken by her; yes, but Jughead honestly couldn’t remember the point where distain had turned into respect and respect had turned into love when it came to him and Veronica.

“We’re all adults here Archie. Just don’t think it has anything to do with you or Betty if I end up leaving early tonight. I promise not to make a spectacle of it either; if anyone says anything, we’ll just say that I went home early to spend some quality time with my old man.”

“We could say that but no-one would believe you.”

“Why not?”

“Because Betty made sure that Veronica scheduled your dad to work tonight so you could still spend some time with him.” Archie replies, scooting his way to the end of the booth and then standing.

“My dad?”

“Yeah, he works part-time bartending at the speakeasy. Didn’t he tell you?”

A bitter tasting emotion that Jughead recognizes as shame churns in his stomach.

“We…We didn’t get much of a chance to talk this morning. I thought that he was working for your dad.”

“No, he still is. There just haven’t been as many projects lately and your dad has missed the bartending, so after the White Whyrm shut down Veronica hired him to work some nights.”

Archie’s smile shrinks slightly and Jughead hurries to wipe the steadily growing scowl off his face. This weekend is about Betty and Archie he reminds himself, and Betty and Archie deserved Jughead on his best behavior, so he smiles as big he can. It works and following Archie out to his truck and grinding his teeth together, Jughead thinks that he’s never hated Veronica Lodge more.

* * *

 

The rehearsal goes well, a fact that Jughead attributes to the fact that Veronica had begged off coming in favor of prepping the speakeasy; and so far dinner had been going fairly smoothly as well; as long as you ignored the fact that Polly and Mrs. Cooper had both rushed off in a huff before even reaching La Bonne Nuit.

It was even entertaining to see the few classmates that Archie and Betty had invited to come to the rehearsal dinner. Kevin was there, and Ethel, even Josie had made an appearance since she was singing at the wedding, even though she hadn’t ended up pursuing a career in the music industry.

The only downsides that Jughead could really find, (and he had tried his best) was that he had been seated next to Kevin and across from Veronica. Well that and how he kept making eye-contact with his dad from where he stood behind the bar-counter.

Jughead didn’t have anything against Kevin really, but he had been and apparently still was overly incorrigible when it came to any sort of gossip. Not a bad trait to have in the writer of a gossip column, Jughead supposed, but definitely a bad trait when directed towards a person that you want to ignore. And Jughead did want to ignore Veronica, he really did, but with every question that Kevin asked it became more and more difficult to stop his eyes from rising to her face, watching to read her reactions like he had used to.

“So Veronica, Betty tells me that you’re not just the owner of Pops anymore; that you actually own the drive-in and the Pembrooke and made a bundle after you sold ownership of Sunnyside and the Riverdale Register.”

Jughead’s eyes dart forward, landing on the silver platter thats sitting on the table in-between him and Veronica, watching as her, admittedly warped, reflection grimaces at Kevin’s words.

“Betty has a very sweet tendency of over-exaggerating.” smiling over at Betty where she was seated on Jughead’s left side “I do own the drive-in and the Pembrooke, but I’m only going to be owning the drive-in while it's being renovated, after which I’m selling it back to the town. I wouldn’t sell it normally, but I have a promise from the mayor that the drive-in is going to be officially placed on the historical buildings registry.”

“It's amazing how much you’ve done for the town Ronnie.” Kevin persists. “I mean, it sounds like that at one point or another you’ve owned most of the town! They might as well call it Veronica-dale!”

The others all murmur similar sentiments, and Jughead tries his best to hold his tongue, tries to remember that this is all about Archie and Betty. But then Veronica’s expression in her twisted reflection tilts into something that resembles a smirk and all his self control flies out the window.

“Kevin’s right Veronica, you shouldn’t be so modest.”

His eyes lift to meet hers and he sees her swallow.

“You’ve truly made this town into a ‘newer, better Riverdale.’ I don’t think anyone of us would have thought that you’d be the one to stay here; to try and change things. But then again…” Jughead glances around at his captive audience, eyes flickering from one face to another before landing back on Veronica’s. “Tell me Kevin, what's that old saying? Like father like daughter, right?”

There is a collective sucking in of breath, Archie’s voice, dark and dangerous in his ears, telling him to back off, and Jughead watches as the brown eyes widen, dropping away from his face and down to the half empty plate in front of her. Then Kevin speaks, hastily trying to mend the breach.

“I think what Jughead means is that you clearly inherited your dad’s business skills, Veronica. Which is a good thing! He’s a smart business man.”

“Kevin!” Betty gasps, fingers tightening around her embroidered napkin.

Jughead glances towards her, sees the reddening of her eyes and feels the nerve underneath his left eye twitch just like it always does when he’s confused. Then Veronica speaks, her voice dragging his gaze back to her.

“Was.”

Her eyes lift to Kevin’s, her expression as still as a stone.

“My father _was_ a smart business man.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that he wasn’t in business anymore.” replies Kevin, who is clearly unable to leave well enough alone. “Did he retire?”

“He…he died two years ago. I guess that you could call it retirement if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

The words are dropped carelessly, like rocks into the ocean. Kevin stills, mouth dropping slightly open, everyone, including the happy couple, does their best to look at anything but her, and Jughead feels his meal turning to ash in his stomach.

The silence stretches out, with nobody quite sure how to make things lighthearted again. Unsurprisingly Veronica is the first one with a solution, rising to her feet to remove herself from the equation.

“Well, I for one am ready to cut open the pre-wedding cake. After all, you can’t truly call something a celebration until everyone is at least three percent sugar and alcohol. Betty, Archie, don’t.” halting the couple from rising from their seats to follow her. “I’m fine. I just need go tell Pop to bring the cake down.”

She disappears upstairs and conversations slowly but surely begin once again. The cake is brought to the table, tea candles flickering around its base, its appearance giving Jughead an opportunity to whisper his hushed apology to Archie and Betty. Archie nods, his mouth pressed in a firm but forgiving line, and Betty gives his arm a reassuring squeeze, adding,

“We’re fine Jug. But we aren’t the ones that you should really be apologizing to.”

Jughead knows that she’s right, just like she usually is when Jughead has gotten himself into a difficult situation, so nodding to his dad whose still standing behind the bar, Jughead slips out of his seat and creeps upstairs, leaving the noise of his fellow celebrators behind him.

She’s standing outside in the parking lot, back to him in a way that is horribly familiar, and so giving his beanie a tug and taking a deep breath, Jughead opens the door and walks out to her.

“If you’re here to tell me to go back to the party, Jughead, you don’t need to. I just needed to get a breath of fresh air before going back down.” she says as he stands beside her, her voice not nearly as harsh as it has every right to be.

“That's not…I wanted to apologize.”

“Well it's not like you knew.” glancing sideways at him “I didn’t exactly call you up and tell you. But I except your apology.”

Her voice falters at the last sentence and Jughead feels a part of his heart that hasn’t been used since their senior year come to life.

“Still, I wish that I hadn’t said anything. Trust me, if I had known-“

“Don’t. Don’t say that you wouldn’t have said what you said if you’d known, because even if you hadn’t said anything you still would have thought it.”

Heels scrape along the concrete and Veronica turns to face him.

“And I’m not saying that because I am claiming to know you oh-so-well; I’m saying it because, it's what I think every time that I look at myself in the mirror, every time that someone congratulates me, I wonder to myself if this is it, if this is the moment that I snap like he did. How long did it take for my father to turn into what he was; how far can I walk down this path before I’m making the same sort of decisions that he did; before I’m hurting people like he did.”

She looks away from him, avoiding his eyes and Jughead can’t help himself from staring at where her teeth are turning her bottom lip white. Her hands dangle restlessly by her sides and Jughead has to shove his own inside his pockets to stop himself for reaching for them.

Because he hates her, he tells himself, and there is no reason for him to feel bad for her, no reason for him to try and comfort her. _I hate her,_ he chants to himself, _I hate her and that's all there is to it._

“I’m sorry.” her voice, thin in the cold air, breaks Jughead from his thoughts “I know that you don’t have any reason to sit and listen to my emotional issues; probably you would rather be doing literally anything else it's just…It's hard seeing you, still wearing that stupid beanie and still thinking with your hea-; with your _emotions_ instead of your brain, and not feel like I’m back in high-school. I’m just…I’m really sorry.” she mutters, walking past him to rejoin the party.

( _I hate her, I hate her, I have to hate her to stay sane.)_

“Veronica.”

She halts at the sound of his voice and and he hears her turn her head to look back at him over her shoulder.

“You were right.”

A pause, a swallowing down of saliva, of words that want to be spoken but never will be; shouldn’t ever be if he wants to survive. He looks over his shoulder, eyes meeting hers in far too familiar a way.

“We would have hated each other.”

The words twist like poison on his tongue, spill like death over his lips. Veronica’s gaze flickers and Jughead’s soul flickers along with it. Twin flames fluttering, in the air, in their hearts. Then Veronica’s expression shuts down, steeling itself against Jughead’s piercing gaze and when she answers her words are tossed out like a challenge.

“I know.”

She turns away, escaping into the security that was Pops and Jughead just can’t seem to force himself to follow her. It's too hard, and his breath is coming out to much like gasps, so instead he gets on his motorcycle and goes back to the trailer, a headache already thundering it's way to existence in-between his ears.

The trailer is quiet and still and so Jughead goes into his room and starts to unpack his suitcase, because his hands won’t stop shaking and he’s honestly not sure what he would do if if he had to sit and listen to his heart beating in his ears.

Feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, Jughead pulls it out and sees a text from Archie asking where he is, along with a photo of Archie and Betty, cross eyed and smiling.

_“Feeling a bit out of it so I headed back early. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon for pictures.”_

It's a bad excuse, but it's the truth and Jughead can’t help but wonder when the last time that he was truly honest with anyone was. The clock blinks mockingly at him, its display reading eleven-thirty-five and a motorcycle revs to life somewhere in the trailer park.

The bed has been made since that morning and walking over to it, Jughead sees that his dad had left a note on the pillow.

“ _Couldn’t get rid of stain so I had to use some of your old ones. Hope you don’t mind. Dad.”_

Scrunching his face up in confusion, Jughead pulls back the comforter and slides in-between the sheets. And suddenly he knows exactly why his dad had hoped he wouldn’t mind. Because he hasn’t used these sheets for the past nine years and they still smell like Veronica’s perfume and shampoo.

 _I hate her,_ he thinks to himself, desperately, _I hate her and her beautiful face and her frightening wonderful mind. I hate her heels and her calm attitude and I wonder if she still smells the same._

He pulls the covers tight against his face, drawing every last bit he can of her into his nose.

 _Do your kisses still taste like mint?_ Jughead mentally asks her. 

_Do you still refuse to watch horror movies without the lights on?_

_Are those stupid dark chocolate bars still your favorite?  
_

_Who was the first person that you told about your dad?_

_Is La La Land still your go to secret pleasure movie?  
_

_Do you still love me as much as I love you?_

Silence is his only answer.

* * *

 

“And if the Best Man and the Matron of Honor would please scoot in a little closer to the happy couple…There we go; that's perfect, thank you!”

Snap, snap. Camera shutter closing rapidly; flash burning Jughead’s retinas into oblivion. Betty, Archie and Polly smiling brilliantly, with Jughead grimacing as best he could; hoping that no-one would notice. Loosening the tie that refused to stop gagging him and looking anywhere but Veronica’s face.

“Okay, lets have the everyone except the bride and the groom in one big, happy group photo. That's it; squeeze together. Think selfie!”

“Come on Jones, it's just like our class photo for the yearbook!” Reggie jokes, slinging one arm around Jughead’s shoulders.

His grip is too tight; his cologne applied to generously; and he’s got Veronica pulled much too close to his body on the other side.  Jughead considers pushing him off, but Betty and Archie are smiling at them all from behind the camera and he can hear _her_ laughing in amusement at Reggie’s antics, so instead he just musters up the biggest grin that he can manage and digs into Reggie’s torso as hard as he can, (and still have it seem accidental,) with his elbow.

“One, two, three…Wonderful!” cries the photographer; a small blonde woman who has been acting far to chipper throughout the whole process in Jughead’s opinion, even excluding the extra smiles that she’d been sending in Reggie’s direction whenever she could. “Now if I could just have the bride and her maids of honor;” turning to Archie “you and the rest of the guys can head inside the church to wait for the ceremony to begin.”

Archie lets go of Betty’s hand with visible reluctance and as the doors close behind them Jughead asks,

“You doing okay Archie?”

“Oh, yeah I’m fine man. I just…I’m ready to be married; you know?”

Jughead hums noncommittally, reaching up to pull his beanie off his head and shoving it inside his motorcycle helmet that he’d tossed onto a random chair earlier. Archie doesn’t seem to notice how lack-luster his answer is and continues,

“I’ve been with Betty for nine years, Jug. Nine years, and now I get to spend every year after this with her in my life! I’m just so glad that she’s in my life, I…I really can’t imagine what my life would look like without her in it. All the things that she’s affected in my life, in the things that I’ve done, without either of us knowing it!”

“Gee Andrews,” interrupts Reggie “if you wanted to show off how poetic you were you should have done it in front of everyone, and had Polly and Jones write speeches; like a speech-off!”

Even Jughead can’t resist chuckling at Reggie’s indignant tone, and they’re all laughing uproariously by the time that the paster sticks his head into the room and tells them that it's time for the ceremony to begin.

Flowers fill the rafters, piano music swells and the doors at the end of the isle are flung open. Dagwood and Juniper walk up, giggling in embarrassment with bright red faces. Dagwood hands Jughead the rings and he takes them absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on the door, waiting for Veronica to come through it.

People are muttering amongst themselves and the music keeps getting louder but Jughead could swear that he can hear the echos of her heels when they come in contact with the old oak floors and the way that the bottom of her dress, (gold and matching his tie,) swishes against the ground. Then she rounds the corner, head held high and face starkly contrasting against her hair, and suddenly Jughead hears Archie’s voice in his head.

_“All the things that she’s affected in my life; in the things that I’ve done, without either of us knowing it.”_

Jughead had spent nine years with Veronica affecting him, playing a part in his decisions, in his most secret hopes and dreams; in his most public angers and heartbreaks. 

 _“I really want to meet the woman that inspired you.”_ his editor had said,

 _“I just hope that whoever she is, is worth it.”_ from his neighbor who had tried to get him to go on a date with her for months before she finally got the hint that he wasn’t interested,

 _“It's not that you want to be alone or that you have some vague idea in your head that you’re looking for. You know exactly who you want to be with; you just are refusing to except the fact that you could actually be with her if you asked.”_ that was Jellybean, right after she had read his third book, and finally the disenchanted voice of the therapist that he’d gone to for a few months,

_“You claim to fear rejection, but that's not what you’re afraid of, not really. Because yes, everyone worries about being rejected but you…You’re scared stiff by the thought of not being rejected; by the idea that someone could actually see you, scars and all, and still want you.”_

Archie straightens beside him; the congregation rises as Betty begins walking up the isle and Jughead forces himself to focus on his surroundings, even though he can’t resist looking over at Veronica periodically for the rest of the service. 

It's very beautiful and touching; or at least that's what he hears people saying after it's all over and everyone is walking to their cars so they can drive to Pickets Park where the reception is being held; Jughead can’t lie and say that he was honestly paying much attention.

Reggie offers to drive him over, so Jughead leaves his helmet with his dad and sticks his beanie in his back pocket.

* * *

 

“Jughead!” Betty hisses from behind him.

Jughead turns, taking a final sip of the champagne that he’d had left over from dinner, feeling his left eyebrow arch at her.

“What's the matter?”

“The matter is that it's time for the bridal party to dance but everyone has run to the four corners of the sea! Polly says that she’s only going to dance with the twins, and Reggie is too busy flirting it up with Brenda to think about dancing with Veronica, and you’re over here in the corner by yourself and plotting your next book for all I know!”

“Who's Brenda?”

“The photographer. She’s over there with Reggie.”

Betty gesticulated wildly with her hand and looking in the direction that she had indicated, Jughead turned and saw Reggie standing deep inside the short blonde’s personal space, not looking like he was planning on going anywhere anytime soon, before he returned his gaze to Veronica who was standing next to Josie; a halfhearted smile fixed onto her face.

 _‘It's risky.’_ he thought to himself _‘Just because you pulled your head out of your rear and realized that you were still in love with her doesn’t meant that she even feels anything about you. Probably safer just to stay here and risk Betty’s wrath.  
_

“I’ll dance with Veronica.”

Betty’s eyes widened as he spoke, looking at her over his shoulder.

“What?”

“I said, I’ll dance with Veronica. That way Polly can dance with the kids without you worrying about me and Reggie can dance with your photographer without you having to worry about Veronica, and you and Archie won’t have to worry about anything.”

“You’re the best Juggie!” Betty squealed, pressing his hand in hers before rushing off. “I’ll talk to Reggie and Polly while you talk to Veronica; so when the music starts, just start dancing!”

Jughead grinned after her, watching as her white skirts billowed after her, then took a deep breath, rattling his ribcage, before walking over to where Veronica stood.

He keeps his gaze on his feet, but Jughead can still feel Veronica looking at him as he crosses the room and when he looks up, Josie has disappeared from view.

“What is it Jughead.”

“Well since it appears that our partners have abandoned us and Betty is having a severe case of delayed bridezilla, I might have suggested to her that you and I would dance together and thus save the day.”

“I remember you being against dancing.”

“Well, that was nine years ago and it's not entirely true. I do dance, but only for the most important people.”

Veronica laughs, lifting a chocolate covered strawberry from the table nearest to her, and biting into it before replying.

‘ _Have you ever told someone you love them Jughead?’_

“And Archie and Betty are the most important people?”

 _No. You are._ Jughead thinks to himself.

But he doesn’t say that, just stretches out his hand for her to take as the music begins to play and says,

“It's their wedding day. If they aren’t the most important people today they never will be.”

Veronica hesitates, he can see her hesitating.

 _‘Please,’_ Jughead whispers to himself _‘please, I need to hold you again. I need to know if there's a chance of you feeling the same as you did then, and even though your mouth will lie until the end of time your soul and body can’t; it won’t be able to.’_

“Veronica…Just trust me.”

Her eyes flash up to his, remembrance filling them. Memories of their first kiss; an awkward kiss made of more chlorine and mock-tails then anything real; had during a stupid game of truth or dare during their sophomore year. She had asked him to trust her then, and look where it had gotten them.

Veronica takes his hand anyway.

He leads her to to the side of the dance floor so the skirt of her dress doesn’t compete with Betty’s or Polly’s. His right hand keeps her left one nestled inside it, and he lets the other slide along her, settling over the small of her back.

She quivers.

It's a small, barely there movement; one that he might have missed if he was a different man, or if Veronica wasn’t someone that Jughead had learned inside and out all that time ago. But he could be wrong,  Jughead needs more, so he pulls her closer.

And there it is, the ever so subtle straightening of her back, the pulling in of breath in-between teeth, the undeniable separation of her burgundy colored lips. Her pulse jumps from her wrist to his hand, diving headfirst into his bloodstream, pounding in Jughead’s ears.

Eyes stare into eyes, souls into souls. They move with the music, some song thats not nearly dramatic or impressive enough for the moment.

_‘I love you Jughead. I don’t think that I’ll ever stop.’_

She hadn’t been lying then. They both still felt the same as they had, all these years later. The only question was if Veronica would stay this time.

_(Please don’t run.)_

The music ends and she all but rips herself away from him; eyes wide and hands clutching at the fabric of her skirt, looking like a scared animal trying to make a run for it.

“Would all the single woman please gather round for the tossing of the bouquet!” cries the DJ, his voice bellowing through the sound system.

“Come on Aunt Veronica!” whines Juniper, running up and wrapping herself around Veronica’s legs.

“Yeah, ‘Aunt Veronica.’” mimics Betty from behind her, a teasing glint in her eye. “I expect to see you front and center in the crowd!”

Veronica follows her meekly, looking like she’s never been more grateful for an escape. Jughead moves off the dance floor, pulling his beanie over his head with shaking fingers and gratefully accepting the glass of champagne that someone offers him.

It turns out that Betty and Archie hadn’t invited to many single women, so gathering them all together in one knot of people doesn’t take long. Betty settles herself into position and lifts the bouquet over her head, sending a conspiratorial wink to Archie who's standing by the head table as she does so. 

The countdown ends, bright red roses flash before Jughead’s eyes, spiraling over and over, flying through the air and landing with a thump in Veronica’s barely outstretched arms. Cheers erupt and fellow wedding guests jostle their way past him onto the dance floor as music begins to play. Archie rushes forward into Betty’s waiting arms, all smiles; Polly spins with a child’s hand in each in each of her own and Jughead spies a burst of gold dashing through the door out into the park. Everyone is smiling; laughing, and nobody notices when Jughead slips out after her.

The air is cool, you could almost call it cold and the stars are shining brightly; much more brightly then Jughead is used to seeing in New York. Veronica is sitting on a park bench, looking even more out of place, in her long dress and pulled back hair, then she normally does.

“Looks like Betty’s gotten quiet the arm suddenly.” Jughead jokes, almost expecting her to return inside at the sound of his voice. Instead she just looks up at him and tucks her skirt closer to her, giving him room to sit next to her on the bench while she answers,

“I suppose it could be that; but I think its more likely that a certain redhead has been coaching her over the summer.”

Jughead snorts as he sits down, watching as his breath floats, barely visible, through the air.

“You want a rose?” Veronica teases, holding the bouquet closer to him.

“I’m not really a flowers type of guy.”

“Ah, of course not. I should have known that you are far to devoted to your ‘overdramatic moody writer aesthetic’ to accept flowers. Although if we’re being honest, the beanie kind of messes with the rest of the vibe. Why did you put it back on anyway?”

“I’m too attractive to the female of the species without it. Haven’t you heard; women go crazy over a man with black, wavy hair.”

Veronica doesn’t react like Jughead had expected her to. Instead of laughing, she just sighs, letting her shoulders droop.

“What do you want Jughead?”

It's a loaded question and Jughead knows that she’s only asking because she feels like she’s been stripped down to her bare soul. So instead of messing around, Jughead sighs too, reaching up to pull the faded beanie off his head; twisting it in his hands, because if Veronica has to bare her soul he should too.

“Do you know why I bought this hat?” Veronica doesn’t answer, just turns her head to look at his profile.

“It was really cold that winter. I had had a hat; a blue one if I remember correctly; but my mom had gotten distracted during an argument with my dad and accidentally used it instead of the ashtray for her cigarette. That was the first year that I remember realizing that I was different then Archie, or Betty I think. Anyway, it had just been my birthday and Archie; or Mr. Andrews I guess; had given me a gift card for this little shop that we had downtown, Franks Department store, it's not there anymore; so I had decided that I was going to use my gift card for a hat instead of a toy or some candy, because I knew that my parents didn’t have enough money to buy me a new one, and it had been so cold. So I convinced my parents to bring Jellybean and I to the store to look at hats.”

Grey yarn stretches and melts back together under Jughead’s fingers and he can still feel Veronica’s eyes on him.

“Jellybean was just a tiny baby, so mom had left her in her carrier on the floor so I could watch after her while my parents went to go look at something; I don’t know what, I just remember that they were fighting with each other, they did that a lot. I had picked out two hats; a bright red one that reminded me of Archie’s hair and this one, which I had picked up because at the time Archie and I were fully in our King Arthur faze and it looked like, well, a crown. I couldn’t decide which one I liked better so I tried them both on for Jellybean. She didn’t react to the red one but this one…When I put this one on she laughed, like actually smiled and everything. I can’t remember how old she was at that point, but I do know that that was the first time that anything I had ever done had made her laugh or smile.”

Jughead paused, glancing over at Veronica and taking a deep breath before continuing.

“I was so excited that she had laughed that I bought it and made her laugh with it for the rest of the day. I even slept in it that night. When I woke up the next morning, the house was empty. Jellybean and mom were nowhere to be found and dad had left a note saying that he’d gone to the White Whyrm and would be back later. And he did come back; I mean he was completely inebriated; but he came back, and told me that my mom had taken Jellybean to go on a trip out west. Not his finest lie, but I believed him.”

A bird hoots in the distance and Veronica lets out a sharp gasp at his words; as she realizes what story he’s telling.

“I was a pretty innocent kid and, since I believed what my dad had told me I wrote Jellybean letters, and drew her pictures of me in my beanie because I thought that it might make her smile.”

“I think that is probably the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard about you doing.” Veronica interrupts, awing softly.

“Yeah well,” smiling slightly “I didn’t get cynical until a little later. Anyway, for some reason I didn’t trust my dad to send the letters so I gave them to Mr. Andrews to send. And after a few weeks I forgot all about them, but I still wore the hat because it reminded me of Jellybean smiling. And I just kept wearing it, because after awhile it was like seeing a kid who normally has glasses without them. The hat became my…My lucky charm I guess. Thats why I still wear it now, its too strange to be back in Riverdale without it, I feel uncomfortable.”

Veronica nods, dropping the bouquet of roses down by her feet before asking,

“What happened to the letters?”

“The letters; yeah, the letters hurt. I had completely forgotten about them, like I said, until one day after spring break in our senior year, when I went into Mr. Andrews desk to find a pencil sharpener. I didn’t find the sharpener, but I did find the stack of my letters, all tied together neatly.”

“He didn’t send them?”

“Only because he didn’t know where to send them. My mom didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address. I wasn’t upset with him or anything, but it still hurt to see them. I went home and cried that day.”

Cheers erupt from the building and Jughead drops the misshapen beanie next to Veronica’s roses.

“I know you did.” Her voice is hushed and Jughead can feel his brow wrinkle in confusion as he turns to look her in the face.

“I was there,” she explains “You were at Archie’s doing homework so I decided that I would come over and try to make spaghetti for you. You came back to the trailer but you didn’t see me, just ran into your room. I could hear you crying through the door and…”

Her sentence breaks off and Jughead leans closer to her, eyes scanning her reddening face.

“And what Veronica? What did you do?”

“I can’t tell you; it was stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I…left, went to Betty’s and borrowed some of her mom’s Tupperware and then while I walked back to the trailer I called your dad and suggested that he should maybe find a friends couch to crash on for the night. Then when I got back to the trailer I put the spaghetti into the containers so it would look like Betty had sent it and cleaned up the kitchen so you wouldn’t know that I had made it; and then I closed the door really loudly so you would hear me and think that I had just had gotten there, and told you that Betty had sent you food.”

“But…Why?"

Veronica cringed into her herself, lifting her hands to bury her face in them. It's an enduring sight and Jughead doesn’t hesitate to pull her hands away from her face and hold them in his own.

“Veronica?”

“Because…because I thought that you were upset about Betty and Archie. It was right after they had gotten together and so I thought that you were crying because of that. And because I was a silly seventeen year old girl, I thought that if you thought Betty had been thinking about you, you would feel better.”

“I remember that; I thought it was weird at the time ‘cause Betty can’t cook to save her life. I’d forgotten that it was the same day. We ate and then we spent the rest of the night watching all the Mission Impossible movies, even though you hate them.”

She shrugged at his words, wrapping her fingers around his just a little tighter while she replied,

“I do, but they’re your comfort movies, even though you would never admit that.”

“Probably. I’m not fantastic at admitting things.”

More excited yelling. Dark lashes sweep against her sloping cheek and Jughead moves closer; much closer then he should, lifting a hand to pull the black hairpins from her hair.

“Jughead…What are you doing.”

Faltering words, spoken so low into the air; a question stated and not asked. One, two, three pins; ebony waves falling over his fingers. Closer again, his forehead pressed against the curve of her skull, inhaling deeply.

She still smells like cinnamon.

His hands fit so easily around her; fingers, gripping hers, cradling the back of her head, pulling her closer, closer. Her hand on his thigh, fingernails digging into the fabric of his pants. Her breath in his ears, heartbeats once again in unison.

“Did you ever think about me?" he breaths "Have you ever…wondered what would have happened if you hadn’t left the way you did?”

“I…yes. Everyday, but last night you said that I was right, that we would’ve hated one-another.”

Jughead shakes his head, mouth ghosting against the shell of her ear, feeling the rustling of her hair in his blood stream as he answers,

“I was lying. Lying then about how easy it was to hate you and lying now about how hard it would be to love. I guess I thought that you knew me well enough to notice.”

“I should have, but I was to self-absorbed then and if the books you wrote were at all inspired by me, I had every right to believe that you hated me.”

“You read them? I thought that if you had you would’ve sent a lawyer my door screaming about defamation of character.”

Veronica’s quiet snort of laugher vibrates through the air, around his bones, inside his soul. It catches him off-guard and Jughead’s heart begins to beat so fast that he’s not sure that its ever going to slow back down.

“I guess that I just didn’t want to assume anything.”

“Well in the future you should probably just make a habit of assuming that if anything about me seems strange, or lacking reason, it's most likely about you.”

Veronica pulls back from him, wonder in her eyes and quivering in her lips.

“You say that like you’re planing on there being a future.”

“Do you not want there to be?”

“It's not that, it's just…I love you, I never stopped loving you but how could a person with a heart like yours, ever be able to love a person with a heart like mine?”

Brown eyes look up into his yearningly, and Jugheads not sure if its the tears that he can see gathering in them, or the way that the moon keeps glinting off the black of her hair, or the fact that the first song that Veronica had ever convinced him to dance with her to starts flouting out the windows from the reception, but whatever it is, it gives him the last drop of courage that he needs.

Jugheads written about many kisses. Kisses of heartbreak, of betrayal; kisses with shaking hands and stomaches filled with butterflies; kisses that could set your soul on fire just thinking about them, but none of them could ever compare to the way it feels when Veronica’s lips are against his.

It's a halting kiss, gentle and nostalgic. His hand on her waist, in her hair. She sinks against him, hands diving into the inky blackness of his hair, pulling him closer, closer.

 _‘I’m here.’_ Jughead’s soul screams; spasming through him, through his mouth, into hers and with each familiar movement of Veronica’s lips she whispers back to him,

_‘I see you, my darling. I see you and I love you and I’ve missed you. Oh, how I’ve missed you!’_

Separation becomes necessary sooner rather then later and Jughead gasps as they part, the feeling of her sinking inside of him, sending him reeling.

A loud yell echos through the night and Veronica’s eyes drift open, landing on his face.

“Archie and Betty are going to come looking for us soon.”

“I doubt that. They never looked for us before.”

“Idiot. I know that, but you’re a VIP guest tonight remember? And I don’t want them to see us together and flatter themselves into thinking that they had anything to do with it.”

She pulls away from him, smoothing out the skirt of her dress, but Jughead keeps ahold of her, cupping her face in his hands, wiping at where Veronica’s lipstick had smeared off her lips.

“I’m not as patient as I was before Princess, and I’ve had just the right amount of champagne tonight to make me think about doing something reckless.”

“Reckless like what?”

“Reckless like pulling you into the middle of the dance floor and kissing you senseless in front of everyone.”

She laughs then, and hell if it isn’t the most enchanting sound that Jugheads heard in years.

“As enjoyable as it would be to see everyones reactions; while you’ve become less patient, I’ve become more jealous.” reaching up and pulling his forehead down to meet hers “I don’t want to have to share you, not tonight. Tomorrow, Archie and Betty will have gone off on their epic two month honeymoon and everyone else will have disappeared into the great wide somewhere and you and I won’t have to think about anything but each-other.”

“You really shouldn’t say things like that; it makes me want to kiss you.”

“Kiss me then. It’ll be fun, I swear.” she teases, twisting his hair around her fingers.

“I can’t. If I kiss you now I won’t be able to remember to not kiss you later.”

“I’m betting that you can handle it.” she whispers, breath hot against his lips.

So Jughead kisses her; kisses her like he’s making up for all the kisses that they’ve missed out on over the past nine years, and in his ears Jughead hears Veronica’s soul whisper to him,

_‘Welcome home.'_


End file.
